Page 34

I laughed softly.

Then I caught his shirt again and kissed him a second time.

And this time, I didn’t hurry.

Chapter 4

By the time I pulled into Peyton’s gravel driveway Friday evening, I’d changed shirts twice and checked the clock enough times to make myself annoying.

I’d spent most of the afternoon learning how to share a microphone with a woman I badly wanted to kiss. Then Peyton had grabbed my flannel and made it perfectly clear she wanted the same thing. I’d driven home with a grin I couldn’t quite get rid of.

The fact that I’d come back wearing a clean dark green shirt and a jacket that didn’t smell faintly of diesel probably gave me away.

Warm light filled the cottage windows as I climbed the steps. I knocked, heard movement inside, and stepped back so I wouldn’t be crowding her when she opened the door.

Peyton wore a fitted plum-colored coat over a dark skirt, with tights and ankle boots that looked sturdy enough for a few hours on her feet. A patterned scarf was looped neatly around her neck, and her dark hair was clipped back on one side.

She looked up at me through those glasses, smiling, and I was suddenly grateful I’d taken the time to find a shirt without a stain on it.

“You look beautiful,” I told her.

Her cheeks turned pink, but she didn’t look away.

“Thank you. I was aiming for warm enough to survive a mountain-town festival without sacrificing my dignity.”

“You’ve managed it. Those boots look ready for the gravel paths, and we’ll be on our feet for a while.”

“I checked the soles.” She glanced down at her feet, then smiled up at me again. “I thought you’d appreciate someone taking appropriate safety precautions.”

I laughed. “Honey, I’m off duty tonight. Although I might have to reconsider if you start swinging an enchanted axe around.”

“Then I’ll leave my moon-forged weapon at home.”

She reached for her keys, locked the cottage door, and turned toward me.

When I offered my hand, Peyton slipped hers into it without hesitation.

I liked that a hell of a lot.

I walked her to the pickup, helped her into the passenger seat, and went around to the driver’s side. The cab was warm, and the dash lights illuminated the coil of charging cable I’d forgotten to put away. I moved a folded road map off the center console before she could mistake the mess for an elaborate navigation system.

Peyton glanced around with interest as I started the engine.

“I’ve been wondering whether your truck would be exactly what I imagined. I’m pleased to see you haven’t disappointed me.”

I glanced at the flashlight tucked beside her seat and waited to see how close she’d come. “Should I ask what you imagined?”

“A large pickup, naturally. Possibly an emergency supply of flannel shirts. And perhaps a very impressive collection of axes.”

I laughed as I eased onto the narrow road. “I’ve got a flashlight, jumper cables, and enough first-aid supplies to stock a small clinic. The axes stay where they belong.”

“How terribly practical.”

“That’s what everybody says when they’ve got a dead battery.”

She settled against the seat with a smile and turned toward the passing trees.

Darkness had settled over the ridge, and my headlights caught fallen leaves scattered across the road beneath the branches. Porch lights shone through the woods at widely spaced houses, and someone had set a carved pumpkin on a fence post where its crooked grin faced the road.